


unquiet grave

by dragonwrote



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Abusive Family, Arranged Marriage, Bloody Shadows AU, Character Study, Developing Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Politics, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwrote/pseuds/dragonwrote
Summary: The day Masato first hears the news of his own marriage, his father spares him no time to properly react. He is told while sitting next to his unwilling bride-to-be in the coldness of his father's private office, the words announced to them like an undisputed fact.---childhood friends seperated, an arranged marriage and a village surronded by a dark forest that hunts them.in a old castle in the mountains, its been a long time since Ai was last human.an expanded take on 'bloody shadows'





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first published work in a long while! hope im not too rusty. a quick note:  
> this is an expanded AU of the shining theatre 'bloody shadows'. ive decieded to keep the japanese names because 1) ive added a lot more characters and didnt want to come up with anglicized versions of everyone else's names and 2) while warren is acceptable i hate how masaferry sounds . 
> 
> anyways enjoy! ive got most of this bad boy outlined, so will hopefully be updating consistently

The day Masato first hears the news of his own marriage, his father spares him no time to properly react. He is told while sitting next to his unwilling bride-to-be in the coldness of his father's private office, the words announced to them like an undisputed fact. Masato was made to understand from an early age that he would be wed for political reasons and yet the reality of it still blindsides him. He had always been deeply conscious of his responsibilities as the son of the mayor - a burden always resting on his back - yet never had he truly felt it's consequences so acutely.

"I have written back and forth with Mr. and Mrs. Nanami and we have all agreed on how advantageous the union would be…" his father tells them, though he finds he can barely concentrate on the words. It feels like detachment, like he is a passive viewer of the events of his life. Marriage seemed like such a faraway milestone, something separate from where he is right now in life. To have it announced to him so suddenly is disorienting, unsettling.

He glances quickly at Haruka to glimpse how she is faring, and it crushes him. She has her eyes fixed downward, hands gripping her skirt and her face a twist of shock and held back tears.

"Father…don't you think this is something that should have been discussed with us, first?" He says, surprised at his own restraint in tone when every part of him feels like he should be yelling, causing a scene to make his point.

"I can see why this may upset you, but you must understand why we have already made this decision."

His father replies to him blandly, as if this simple response is only to humor him. The only effect it has is upsetting him further.

"I think it is too soon for us to commit to something like this -"

"Which is why I'm telling you both now, so you have time to adjust to the idea before we begin to plan the ceremony."

His father stands, cutting off any further argument, "I think in time you will understand and appreciate the need for this."

The final statement comes too fast to process. Feels like a premature conclusion that's left him suspended still, with no resolution.

Both Masato and Haruka rise from their seats as the Hijirikawa elder moves to show them out. As they leave room, the line of Haruka's shoulders is still rigid with tension and Masato does not miss the hesitation as she offers her hand to his father to say goodbye. As soon as she is dismissed, she takes off running and all Masato can do is shoot a glare at his father before following after her.

He loses her quickly in the busy corridors of the town hall, the morning rush of business and politics attracting all sorts of people.

"Haruka, wait!" He calls out, managing to catch her on the entrance steps leading back to the main square. He reaches out for her arm, but retracts his hand when she sees her anxious look.

"About all this…I'm sorry. I-I'll talk to my father, try to figure something out."

At this, Haruka gave him a sad smile, "Thank you, Masato, it's not you, I just -" she took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing, "Forgive me, I have to go, but we should talk about this another time."

With that, Haruka took off into the crowd of the town square. He watched her, his chest racked with guilt at her attempts even now to spare his feelings, at how yet another close friend is to be a casualty of his familial burden. His anger wars with a learned helplessness that came from a lifetime of experience that told him defying his father was a futile endeavor.

His father was an immovable rock, authoritarian shackles tied to his feet. It wasn't the first time his father asserted his iron will over his son's life and Masato doubted it would be the last. How many friends would he have to lose? Were his family and position truly such an unbreakable curse? Haruka was too kind, too innocent to be caught in such a loss of choice, but such was both their fates to be born in their cruel little village, which held more blood and secrets than he cared to know .Still—it was something he had to fight.

He gathered himself and returned back to the town hall to confront his father.

 

* * *

 

Haruka's earliest memory is of her grandmother's old farm house; it was a thing of great age and stone walls, situated right on the outskirts of the only village Haruka had ever known. In its backyard was a great swath of field, which in the spring was green and ripe with crops to be sowed, but in the winter was only a lengthy trek of brown dirt and dead grass. In this time of year there was a continuous rolling fog on its ground, which only made the imposing dark forest at its edge seem even closer. Though the shadow of the forest was a subject of fear that had often haunted young Haruka, the house itself would always be a blessed thing, it's perimeter protected by the power of her grandmother's memory.

Haruka had been raised by her grandmother, as her parents had travelled and moved across the mountains for trade, leaving their young daughter in the hands of their elder. Haruka did not mind this and took care to commit all the little things her grandmother had taught her to memory: that rosewater on the windowsill was good for her nightmares and for love, that yarrow could be used for wounds, and that ivy was for luck. Every room was filled with these little reminders, with chipped cups and painted frames and everything a story that Haruka looked on fondly. When her grandmother passed she was devastated, but with her lessons learned and her friends’ support, Haruka quickly took to her role as the head of the house and adjusted to living in the house alone.

On such days like these however, the loneliness of the house seemed more than she could bear. She had rushed over to her home, the long walk from the town center doing much to clear her head but her chest still felt hallowed out and her anxiety wrung too tight. Her grandmother had never approached the topic of marriage with her, though Haruka realizes that in their village such a thing was wordless expectation.

Logically and intellectually, Haruka knows Masato would be a wonderful husband. Rather than a stranger, he was a good friend who had much in common with her and had been there to support her during the passing of her grandmother. She does not doubt that his father and her parents too, saw their engagement as the logical evolution of their relationship. They must have thought perhaps they could even be happy, eventually.

Even so, Haruka feels the loss of her autonomy like stinging wound. Perhaps it had been naïve to allow herself to hope for a chance at romance, but those were the what-ifs she would mourn, the little gifts she hadn’t appreciated until they were gone.

It was another loss she would have to learn to cope with.

She was torn from her thoughts by the familiar sound of trotting approaching her house. She quickly approached her window to see the sight of her best friend arriving on horseback, allowing a tangible relief settled itself in her chest. Haruka gave herself a precursory grooming - wiping her eyes of stray tears and straightening her dress - before opening the door and meeting her friend outside.

"Tomochika! What are you doing here?"

"Hey, what a greeting, I thought you'd be happy to see me," Tomochika teased, an easy smile playing on her face as she brought her horse to a stop. She was wearing her riding pants—a bold choice for their conservative town—with her voluminous red curls tied back behind her. Everything about her, from her dress, to her smile, to her swagger was brilliant to Haruka, and it was exactly what she needed in this moment.

Haruka gave a small laugh, but blushed anyway at the comment, "Sorry, Tomo, you actually have no idea how happy I am you're here…I just wasn't expecting it."

"I know I said I would come tomorrow, but Ittoki came to talk to me at lunch and told me he saw you looking rather distressed earlier, and that I should come and check on you since you're out here all by your lonesome," she explained as she dismounted herself and lead her horse towards the back stables, "I was missing you anyway, so I thought, why not?"

Haruka follows at her side, the easy confession settling warmly in between them, "Ah, he saw me then…I've had quite the day unfortunately,”

"Well, let's get inside and you can tell me all about it!"

Haruka nodded, leading the way back into her house, "I'll make us some tea."

 

* * *

 

 

Tomochika quickly made herself at home, helping Haruka set the table while the other waited for the tea to boil. She kept a comfortable silence between them, not making any move to push Haruka yet, instead waiting patiently for her friend to talk. Though she trusted Tomochika, Haruka still found herself stalling around the kitchen so as to not begin the story, as if not saying it aloud made it any less true.

“So, I told you how I was to meet Masato’s father today about the estate…”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, I met with him and…” Tomochika turned around to look at her friend struggling to find the words, “Oh, Tomo, I’ve been arranged to marry Masato.” Finally confessing the words out loud is the final push which spurs Haruka to tears and immediately her friend’s expression shifts from shock to sympathy. Before Haruka’s first tear even falls, Tomochika is out her seat and wrapping her arms around the shorter girl. She reciprocates the embrace with no hesitation, her fingers gripping tightly at Tomo’s back.

Her face buried into the crook of her friend’s neck, Haruka finds the rest of the words tumbling out her mouth like water through open hands, “I-I feel like I’ve been backed into a corner. It’s my life and it feels like it’s completely out of my control, it feels...”

She sniffles, _like when Grandma died and I couldn’t do anything_. She feels Tomo’s arms around her like an anchor, something to hold her in place when she feels like she might drift away. Haruka has always been one to try her best and to put in her maximum effort despite the circumstances, but in situations like these she can't help but feel condemned to a passive role.

The moment is cut through by the sound of the kettle whistling and Tomochika lets her go with a last meaningful look before tending to the tea.

"Haruka, I'm so sorry," she said, as she began pouring them both a cup, "I can't believe he just sprung this on you now. Had your parents mentioned it before?"

Haruka sat down at the kitchen table before responding, "No, we talked about settling the problem with grandma's will in the last letter, but I wasn't expecting this…"

Tomochika followed to sit next to her with two cups of tea, her expression still marked with worry. She seemed to be thinking deeply about something and Haruka recognized the long silence as something uncharacteristic of her friend.

"I've been thinking about it all day since it happened," Haruka starts, with a sudden need to fill the silence, "I'm sorry. I-I know that maybe it's selfish of me to be complaining about this, Masato would be a better husband than most—”

She finds her words cut off when Tomochika suddenly leans forward and takes Haruka's hand, "You don't have to apologize for what you're feeling, not with me." The words were spoken with a severity and seriousness Haruka was not accustomed to seeing in her; Tomochika was always helpful, always empathetic, and always caring, but Haruka could see the situation had not left her unaffected.

"And maybe you're right, had you and Masato decided to get married, I would support you—he’s kind, hardworking, and I think he would take care of you—he would be a good husband…" her expression seemed bittersweet at the passing thought before continuing, "but that isn't what's happening here. Forcing you into a marriage without your consent, it's a violation."

Haruka squeezes Tomochika's hand back in response, taking comfort in the contact, as she took in the words. Being near her best friend was always a comfort, but Haruka finds that for some reason, in this moment, it racks her heart with an even deeper sadness and regret, a sort she finds herself scared to detail or examine too closely.

"You know how Mayor Hijirikawa is… What am I supposed to say to him?"

Tomochika frowns, "I know Haruka, the man's a menance. I can't imagine Masato is okay with this either though. Maybe the two of you can do something."

The thought of confronting the elder is an intimidating one and even imagining the encounter feels like a further toll on her. The stress of it must show on her face because Tomochika immediately grimaces, "Sorry, we don't have to think about it right now." She rubbed her friend's hand once more in a sign of comfort before standing up, "Why don't I start making us dinner? I don't have to go into work till later in the day tomorrow, so I can stay the night."

Haruka nods enthusiastically at this, "Yes that sounds great Tomo. Please, tell me, how is Ringo doing?"

With the subtle cue, Tomochika fills the room with talk of her seamstress job, her expressive voice detailing her recent endeavors with her mentor and relaying back the recent talk of the villagers who frequented their shop. Haruka listened along, nodding in acknowledgement and silently grateful her friend understood her need for distraction, at least for today.

"—Ringo says he's always that uptight, but I think the whole town's gotten more tense with the winter and all…"

"It feels like there’s something in the air, like something bad is going to happen," the cryptic words escape Haruka before she can stop them, but she can't help but feel them ring even more true with her current circumstance.

Tomochika takes her words in with furrowed brows but agrees, "I don't think you're the only one who thinks so," she pauses before continuing, as if considering whether her words would be wise to share, "They're saying the roads and forest are getting more dangerous. I think the militia is recruiting…"

Haruka feels a deep sense of fear that crawls up her back as she thinks about it. She lets Tomochika continue talking and as she helps her around the kitchen while night begins to fall around them, she wonders if all these next months will feel as uncertain.

 

* * *

 

 

When Masato returned back to town hall to confront his father, he was not surprised to find his office empty and his secretary relaying back to him that the mayor would be busy with council meetings for the rest of the day. It was an anticlimactic rush, his anger waning and deflating into anxiety and grief. He had paced around town for a bit, but in the end had no choice but to return home to await his father's return at dinner.

The nervous energy under his skin did not dissipate in the forced intermission, but instead took root in his chest. The wait seemed endless and his mother's silence on the matter echoed throughout the cold walls of their family home. The servants of the home had dinner set before dusk, but his father did not arrive home until it was already dark.

Masato was accustomed to the strict rules of his family, was used to the baseline level of tension and expectation that existed whenever he interacted with his father, but the buildup of their confrontation left Masato feeling suffocated. As expected, his parents continued on with dinner with no more than trivial small talk and a blind eye to their son's strained demeanor. He barely touched his food, the ghost of anticipation rattling around in his stomach not allowing him to drop his guard. Even the kind face of his younger sister sitting across from him did not do much to center him.

He's not sure what was his exact trigger—if it was something his father said or his mother's deafening avoidance—but some way through the dinner he drops his silverware loudly onto his plate, the clatter cutting through his parent's performance.

"So, are we simply not going to discuss how I'm to be married?"

He speaks the words into the tense silence and even though he can feel his father's piercing stare on him like something tangible, he cannot bring himself to lift his head and meet his gaze.

"Is there something more to say about it?" his father challenges.

"You said it had already been decided—”

"I did," his father interrupts and Masato has to hold back a reaction.

"I know but, I don't think Haruka is happy about this and—” I'm not either, but the words get stuck in his throat, lost before they're spoken because he knows they won't matter, "I think we should postpone anything until we actually talk about it, since it is our marriage after all." His argument is carefully neutral, though he knows they are not spoken with the confidence he wants.

"My son, do you doubt I have anything but your best interests at heart?"

Yes, he wants to say, that he has always doubted his father's intentions with regards to his family. Instead he says, "It's not about that. It's about the choice of the matter." He braves a look at his father, whose stare has continued unrelentingly. His mother is looking at him with a worried expression, and his younger sister is pushing food around on her plate idly.

"Choice is a luxury most are not afforded, Masato," he says with a degree of severity, "Aren't you to be mayor one day as well? To take on that position you must understand the virtue of responsibility. Of making choices you don't want to make for the sake of a greater good."

Masato grits his teeth; it was a speech he knew well, one that had been reiterated to him in various forms throughout his life. It was a lesson hammered deep into his bones and that reverberated back into every corner of his life.

"It's difficult to see why my own marriage couldn't be discussed with me."

This upsets his father, whose expression twists into something frustrated, "We already discussed it today. We didn't raise you under any illusions; you knew this would one day be expected of you. "

Was that supposed to make it better, Masato wondered? He was already finding it difficult to keep himself calm though he knew he had to avoid saying something regrettable.

"But—"

"This is only the first of many sacrifices you will be expected to make when you become mayor—it’s not about choice, it's about stability, for you and the village. And that's the last we will discuss the matter for tonight." His father announces, the sense of finality in how he pointedly returns to his meal.

Masato, on the other hand, feels as though he lost the little appetite he had left. He stands abruptly with a gruff, "excuse me," ignoring the disapproving looks of his parents as he makes his way outside to the family garden. The fresh air is immediate relief, a palpable escape from the tension trapped into the spaces his father inhabits. He paces around the garden, letting his energy to burn off in his quick steps. The night is cold, the air wrapping him around him chill from the autumn season.

Though the temporary separation is an instant relief, Masato still feels the tugs of frustration chipping away at him. Any discussion with his father feels like a chastisement, any points he might be making are turned on their head and suddenly he is a child again, a brat who does not know what he’s talking about. He does not look forward to the inevitable arguments that will continue on after this, does not enjoy feeling like his words are fated to fall on deaf ears.

His pacing is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on grass other than his own. The soft sound draws his gaze and he finds his younger sister, Mai, approaching him cautiously.

“Mai, did you finish your dinner?”

She nods her head shyly, her hands fidgeting at her front. He softens at the sight, his tense shoulders suddenly sagging. He sighs and leans down onto one knee to meet her height. The familiar gesture spurs the younger girl into action and she sprints into his arms.

“I was nervous when you left.”

“Sorry about that, Mai. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay. I know how dad can be.”

He hugs his younger sister tight, silently appreciative of her presence, of her attempt at comforting him despite her age. The thought that once she is older, the spaces of her life may find themselves bound to the same expectations that befall him makes him resolve to do something.

In a practiced movement, he moves his arm to pick her up off the ground. The laughter bubbles out of her effortlessly, like it always does with children, and the sound of it rings like peacefulness in his ears. She was still small enough that there was little effort involved in the action, but she was growing taller by the day and more intelligent by the hour.

He carried her all the way to back to the door, hesitating upon the decision to have to enter the house again. He settles with putting his sister down on the steps of the wooden porch and sitting down next to her. He felt he had to take advantage of the sacred space between them, of time untainted by the politics of their household.

They sit in companionable silence for some minutes. Mai is the first one to break the silence, after the wind and cicadas, “Do you not want to marry Haruka?”

It was a question asked with innocence and no intent to cause any harm; still, that did little to soften the blow of it. Maybe in another life, maybe under different circumstances, Masato’s response would be different.

The words do not get to leave his mouth before they are interrupted, a distant sound from the forest cutting through them. It could have been mistaken for wind, were it not so distinctly menacing. Howling, echoing from wolves in the mountains. Masato stood up to look over the garden to the cluster of trees that led into the denser forest surrounding them. A place their village was taught well to fear.

“Mai, go back inside.”

She gave a jerky nod, not breaking eye contact with the darkness until she turned around and ran inside. Masato stayed back, still looking back at the forest and letting the inexplicable dread settle inside him before following his sister into the house.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory from the past.

_Five years prior_

 

At age seventeen, Masato had already settled into his pride like a well worn skin. It was an armor against the truth of his insecurities, a way to ease the difficulty of growing into responsibility.

It didn’t help that Ren Jinguji had no respect for such things and never did.

“Hijirikawa, don’t get sloppy now,” Ren teases, even though Masato knows his fencing form to be almost perfect and that the other only landed hits with cheap tricks and messy under-handed blows.

Still, Ren never fails to provoke a reaction from him, and the words make Masato grit his teeth and strike faster. Fast enough that Ren is only barely able to step back in time to dodge a saber aimed directly at his chest.

Ren laughs; his attempt at parrying Masato’s saber is a weak thing, barely there. Their duel doesn’t last much longer; one rough movement throws the former’s weapon out of his hand with a resounding clank.

“You win,” Ren declares with an easy smile as he throws his hands up in mock defeat, but it only makes Masato frown. It was something Ren did often, allow himself to lose so as to not have to bear further judgment. 

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

“It’s just fencing,” he replies with a shrug.

“It’s training.”

“For what? I don’t want to join the militia,” his face is hinting at the beginnings of something close to upset, though it was always difficult to tell with Ren.

The flippancy of his answer grated on Masato more than any teasing ever could. The difference in their familial expectations always manifested itself, leaving an ugly taint that bred contempt in their interactions. As the firstborn of his family, all the responsibility of the head of the house had fallen to him, while Ren the third born was left to wander aimlessly, a freedom Masato could only dream of.

It made him angry that the other boy seemed to take this in stride, and it made him horrifically jealous, though, he would never admit it aloud.

“That doesn’t matter. Training is still important, can’t you have some discipline?” He kneeled down to pick up the fallen saber and put it away.

“You mean like you?” Ren bites back, the words said like an insult, “Sorry we can’t all be so hard-assed.”

Masato glares at him, anger and irritation rising like bile in his throat. He shoves past him with a purposefully rough bump of their shoulders, “Why are you so insufferable!?”

Something resembling regret flashes across Ren’s face, but it came and went so fast it could have just been imagined.

“Masa, wait a second-”

“Just forget it,” he huffed out,but before he could leave Ren’s hand gripped his wrist, pulling him to stay.

“Hold on a second, okay? I don’t actually want to fight today.”

Masato looked back at him with a frown, “Could have fooled me.” They stared each other down for a few seconds, a stubborn showdown, before Ren’s stern expression cracked and broke into a smile, “You’re cute when you pout.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Masato rolled his eyes and pushed Ren away, though the resulting laughter cut through tension that had built up between them immediately; it was muscle memory for them at that point to fall back into the teasing and banter of their childhood, even with the baggage of the present being a constant sinking weight tied on both their ankles.

Ren laughed, seemingly pleased that he got the reaction he was looking for.

“You wanted to train today, right?” Ren put up his fists with a small smile, “Then let’s train.”

Masato tried to keep his face neutral to keep up the game, but he has no doubt the interest had already flashed in his eyes. He couldn’t help always rising to take Ren's bait, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to let off some steam.

"Alright, but no tricks."

"Of course not," Ren appeases easily and Masato responds by mirroring his stance. They begin to circle each other, a careful dance of purposeful steps. With one foot in front of the other, Masato notes the quick tension in his abdomen, the preemptive bracing for potential impact. He fights against his instinct to strike first, feeling perhaps that would be giving the other boy what he wants.

Ren smirks at him from under his bangs, a warning before he strikes; there’s a fist aimed right for his face, an obvious move that Masato blocks with practiced ease. It’s a formula they’ve been taught by their mentor Ranmaru, and one that they’ve become intimately familiar with over the past few years. Combat training was a skill that Masato’s father believed was essential for his education; his participation in the militia would be a crucial first step into earning the respect of the town before stepping into his role as mayor.

Masato leaves only a second between them before he moves in retaliation, sending a quick jab at his left side, which Ren dodges with a quick step back. The call and response between the pair continues for a couple minutes, both of them testing out the waters of their duel.

It isn’t long before Ren begins talking to fill the air, “I always thought it was funny that the militia taught so much hand-to-hand; do you really think this stuff would be any good against whatever’s in the forest?”

Masato’s expression turns more serious at the comment, “You know there are other traditions in place for that.”

Ren hums thoughtfully, “Maybe,”and he punctuates it with a quick strike at Masato’s stomach which lands before he can register it. It irritates him more than it actually hurts.

He misses a swing before Ren takes advantage of his temper; as he dives forward Ren trips him, grabbing a hold of his arm to pull him forward. He’s falling quick and before he knows it, his arms are catching his fall in the dirt and grass. Masato scrambles to turn around and by the time he has, Ren is on the ground with him, on top of him and trapping him under his weight.

Ren tries to grab his arms and the two begin a familiar game, wrestling each other for some sort of win. Masato struggles against Ren’s hold, but at this age the other boy has the advantage in both height and size. No matter how much Masato trains, he won’t be catching up in that respect just yet.

Eventually, Masato concedes defeat and lets his struggling cease till his arms are being pinned limp to the ground. Ren is looking down at him with a triumphant grin, his golden hair falling like a curtain above Masato, the color backlit by the morning sun.

“I win.”

Masato scoffs, “You were messy, Jinguji,” he struggles where Ren is straddling him as a last show of defiance.

Ren perks a brow at the comment and leans his weight forward more, “Don’t be a sore a loser, Hijirikawa.” The movement makes Masato hyperaware of their proximity; the ease in which they touch and fight is a remnant of their shared past, of a closeness they once shared. It feels juxtaposed with their current reality; that they become more distant with each other everyday as they grow into their respective roles.

They were no longer the children they once were, and it was never more obvious than in these moments of close contact. Coming face to face with how much Ren’s shoulders had broadened these past couple of years, how his once awkward prepubescent features were slowly beginning to define themselves into handsome.

Masato shifted again uncomfortably. He didn’t particularly like thinking of his childhood friend as handsome.

“Fine, you win. Let me go.”

“Already? I thought we could argue about it a little more.”

“No, I’ve accepted your victory.”

“That’s suspicious, you’re usually a little more competitive than this,” Ren says before leaning in closer, eyes squinted, “You’re sure you’re not angry?”

Masato huffed as he tried once more to push Ren off with no avail, “I’m not, now let me go please? I won’t do anything.”

The other boy continued to look at him skeptically but eventually relented, letting go of Masato’s wrists. Though as soon as he does, the smaller boy lunges him at him with all his weight.

“Hey -!”

Their struggle is reborn anew, and Masato can’t help that Ren is always the one to bring out this side of him. Ren makes him heated, Ren makes him childish; every interaction is a moment of catharsis in his strict routine constrained by the laws of his father.

“Forgive me, Jinguji…” he says in the middle of their fighting, suddenly finding himself desperate for the upperhand.

Ren’s eye widen a fraction, “Wait, what -“

Any other words die on Ren’s lips as Masato’s hands go straight for other boy’s stomach. In a fraction of second, Ren falls to the ground in unrestrained laughter.

“To think you act so cool when you have a weakness like tickling…what would everyone say?”

“Sh-Shut up!” He retorts but its lost in between his sharp breathes. Masato could drown in his laughter, could get drunk off seeing Ren’s smile so unguarded. It felt like a respite from the politics they so constantly navigated.

Masato takes advantage of the situation, straddling Ren’s hips in a reversal of their previous position. He finds himself smiling in satisfaction despite himself. Their shared moment is cut short by the echoing of noon bells from the distant town square, a violent break of the illusion as Masato ceases his motions.

Ren’s laughter dies down slowly, the atmosphere beginning to morph as Masato’s face darkens as he notices the time. In a sudden movement, Masato is off of Ren like he’s been burned; beginning to hurry himself off the ground.

“Masato, what’s wrong?”

“I didn’t notice it was noon already, I'm going to be late…I shouldn’t have come today.”

Masato knows Ren’s carefully guarded expression intimately enough that he can see all the fissures and cracks; the slight furrow of his brow and the stiffness in the line of his shoulders. Perhaps Masato would have allowed himself to be moved by the sight, but now, in the moment, his mind is too preoccupied with the possibility of incurring his father’s wrath further with his tardiness.

When he scrambles to turn away, Ren does not reach for him this time. Instead he hears from behind him, “What your father tells you is always going to be more important, isn’t it?”

It stops him in his tracks more than any kind of physical force ever could. “What are you talking about?” He says, though he knows he’s feigning ignorance through gritted teeth.

“We’ve barely seen each other these past few months and now you’re running off again. What did your father say to you?”

The words make Masato feel immediately indignant. How dare Ren presume and push as much as he did?

“Don’t be foolish Jinguji. Don’t act like my father is the root of all our problems.” It’s a partial truth and Masato begins to believe it as the words form in his mouth. Their fallout was a prewritten inevitability, set in stone before they were born. Even before his father had pulled him aside to speak of concerns related to the troublesome Jinguji boy, young Masato could feel how their personalities and circumstances were bound to eventually drive them apart. They were products of their families and of the hierarchy of their little town. Their families would always be rivals, and Ren has never sympathized with his burden of being the first-born.

Even so, he never expected the break to be so painful. He never expected himself to be so resistant to it.

“Do you really mean that, Hijirikawa? If you do, tell me right now and I’ll leave you alone.”

It’s something about the way Ren says it that sounds more genuine than anything he’s heard from the other boy in a very long time, and that breaks his resolve.

“It’s not…you know, it’s complicated, Ren,” the words come out exasperated and Masato finds him defending himself, moving closer to the other boy for reasons he doesn’t understand yet.

Ren pulls himself off the ground to look at his childhood friend directly. This time, Masato finds that he really can’t decipher his visage or the thoughts behind his eyes.

After a few second, Ren just sighs, “Don’t you get tired of being this hot and cold, Masa?”

Masato sputters at the comment, but before he can muster another defense Ren begins to speak again, “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll be leaving next year anyway, not much your old man can be mad about then.”

The comment hits Masato like sudden whiplash and he tries not to show it, “Leaving…you mean, your brother is sending you away for sure?”

Ren shoves his hands in his pockets, an attempt at looking casual despite their conversation, “Yeah…I would be dealing directly with my family’s trade contacts in other cities, maybe other countries…I mean, I’ve always wanted to travel.”

Something is off with what he is hearing, but Masato isn’t sure of what to say, “Oh.”

“It’ll be okay. I can still send you letters. Will you miss me?”

“That’s still a long time from now,” he deflects.

Ren smiles like he’s taking pity on him, “Yeah, that’s true,” He looks at Masato with a soft expression before continuing, “Go to whatever it is you need to do, you’re late right? We can talk more later.”

Masato nods but his thoughts are still racing, the thought of Ren actually leaving too real of a dilemma to contend with. It’s something he doesn’t want to think about and something he isn’t prepared to deal with.

“Yes, I have to go. Um, see you,” he says curtly before turning away and walking back into town. Already he knows its an insufficient good bye, but it’s easy to be so flippant, to be cruelly avoidant when he knows Ren to be a constant fixture of life despite the ever changing status between them. It’s something that’s always gone both ways for them: why Ren does things out of spite and why Masato says things he regrets.

It is too difficult to imagine a life where Ren is not there, though that is not something he will ever admit. He decides to do what he does best and busies himself before he can think about it more deeply.

 

* * *

 

 

_Present day_

 

Masato rises before dawn and cherishes the few seconds of his initial waking, before the memories of the previous day and his engagement to Haruka slowly begin to creep back into the front of his consciousness. It isn’t long before his restlessness urges him out of bed and leads his wandering feet back to the town’s militia barracks.

It was an area he knew well; a place where he spent most of his youth training and that steadied his mind with its structure and certainty. Though it also held the baggage of being a responsibility set forth by his father, he appreciated his training and his role in the community more than his other obligations.

He quickly found the weapons cabinet, using his keys to unlock it. He took out a few of the rifles, setting them down and taking them apart. Masato had never felt particularly home with a gun in his hands but he respected the skill as a necessity living in town surrounded by a forest of creatures unknown.

Still he found a peace in the repetition of the meticulous process of cleaning and oiling. He could go through the motions without thinking too much, and it distracted his mind from the issue of his marriage.

At least, for a little. It didn’t take long for his thoughts return to Haruka, to his father and family. Then, like his spirals often do,they led him to more broken half-thoughts and regrets till he found himself thinking about Ren.

It’s a very typical pattern for him; though it has been happening with less frequency as time slowly heals his loss, Ren is still a constant consideration. It had been over a year now since he had last heard from the other man - their last correspondence kept in a pile of exchanged letters in a box under his bed, that he only looks at when feeling particularly melancholy. He remembers very clearly the day Ren took off under the orders of his older brother, their farewell was fleeting and left too many things unspoken.

He has no idea what happened to Ren: Why he stopped writing, why he didn’t come back the day the day he was supposed to, what happened…These are the unanswered questions that linger at the back of Masato’s mind, and they rear their ugly face during moments of despair.

In the beginning, he had been overwrought with a crippling wave of worry and fear; that somewhere in his journeys Ren got caught up in something he wasn’t supposed to, or that he had some kind of accident where no one who knew him was there to identify the body. Even now the thought triggers uncontrollable chills and dread in their possibility. 

It had been the source of town gossip for months and is still a topic of contention; the general consensus was torn between believing that Ren, always the playboy, ran away from his family obligations to get hitched, or that he did indeed meet some unfortunate premature end.

Masato himself preferred to think the former, though it filled him with low burning sense of betrayal and rage that was indecipherable to him. Whether it was true or not did not matter, he held that anger close to his heart, because if he could be angry it meant he did not have to mourn. The lack of resolution would never allow him to process the loss properly, and resentment was a more natural feeling to have towards him anyway.

He finds it difficult to imagine a time in his life where thinking about Ren wouldn’t affect him so.

"Hijirikawa."

Hearing his last name is enough of a surprise that he jolts out of his seat, dropping the rifle piece he was working on with a resounding clang on the ground.

"Ah, Kurosaki. I didn't hear you come in."

Kurosaki Ranmaru is looking at him with his brows furrowed and an unamused look written across his features. It's a typical expression that’s not out of place at all on his mentor's face.

"What are you doing here so early? You weren't scheduled for today."

Years of learning how best to respond to Ranmaru's blunt edges has trained Masato to have thick skin and an even quicker wit. Yet he finds it immensely difficult to summon either of those, feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn't felt in quite some time.

"I'm - I had a difficult time staying asleep. So I came here."

Ranmaru pulls up the chair next to Masato in a movement roughened by sleepiness, his limbs languid with the early hour of the meeting. Ranmaru has never been an early riser; his morning mood was always slow. His lazy movements always remind him of Ren, in a muscle memory kind of way, but Ranmaru has always been sharper and moved with more purpose versus Ren’s easy-going mannerisms.

He really had to stop thinking about Ren.

"Is it the usual?" Ranmaru asks, his demeanor masking the undercurrent of concern in his words.

Yes and no, he thinks. All his problems have always had the same root causes.

"I'm getting engaged to Haruka," he says, his voice surprisingly even like something practiced or rehearsed.

Ranmaru' s shocked look passes as quickly as it comes. Masato knew he would recover quickly and that there was no reason to skirt around the issue.

As he predicted, Ranmaru is expectantly nonchalant about the issue, "Doesn't seem like the worst thing that could happen. How did Haruka react?"

"Very poorly. I feel…like I have to do something. But my father…"

Ranmaru considers his words, "That sounds like a decision you’re going to have to make.”

Masato frowns. Leave it to Ranmaru to make it sound so simple; perhaps it was.

His silent contemplation is not allowed to fester for longer than an moment before his mentor speaks again, “Are you going to talk to Haruka today? You should.”

Masato nods; he had been hoping to find her in town today. If not he planned to make the trip to her house.

“Don’t look so tragic,” he chides, “You’re both adults, I’m sure you’ll find a solution.”

Masato notes the way he avoids any specifics; Ranmaru wasn’t so cruel to as imply that turning against his father was the obvious and easy answer. At the end of the day, Masato’s father was the most influential man in their town, and neither of them had any prospects in the world outside.

“I don’t want Haruinka to hate me,” he blurts out. All he can think about is the month when he realized Ren wouldn’t be coming back and all he could feel was deep-seated regret at the sorry state of their relationship at that point; at the all the things left unsaid between them and all the words their families stole from them. The resentment that was allowed to build because of their circumstance - Masato did not want history to repeat itself.

Ranmaru rubs the back of his neck absentmindedly, “I don’t really think that will happen. You know how Haruka is, she doesn’t have a single ill-thought in that head of hers.”

“I guess you are right…”

“Still, I’m sure if this ordeal has her upset she’s going to need some support.”

Masato nods, even though he isn’t sure he would be the best person to do that right now.

Ranmaru stands up, “Join me on the morning rounds? We can keep talking, but you know how the captain will get on my ass if I don’t start on time.”

The title is said with sarcasm and venom, though Masato was not surprised; it was no secret Ranmaru did not get along with the guard captain, Camus, despite how closely they were always working together.

“How has the captain been?” Masato ventures to ask.

Ranmaru frowns as he begins to help Masato put away the guns back into their place, “Self-important as always. You know how things get this time of year, they’re asking for more volunteers and buffing up the patrol groups so it’s got him even more cranky than usual.”

Masato nodded, “Well, it is a stressful time,” and it was true; fall was the end of the harvest and the beginning of shorter days and longer nights - not very good things for a village surrounded and hunted.

When they finish putting everything away, Ranmaru began the walk around the village perimeter. It was still to early to go see Haruka, so Masato nodded and followed one step behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little slow-going but steady ...Masato is repressed


	3. chapter 3

Haruka was only nudged awake by the soft stream of light that had snuck its way through the closed curtains of her room. Her first thoughts were vague images left over from her dreams that night, specific only in her first second waking, then to be lost to the new day. Her second conscious thought is a slow awareness of the other body sharing her bed.

When she rolls over onto her other side, she finds Tomochika still sleeping soundly in the leftover shadows. Haruka feels the intimacy of the moment acutely; of the easy comfort of sharing such a close quarters, of spending a night together in each other’s company. Had Tomochika not been there last to help soothe her uneasy mind in the wake of the engagement, Haruka is sure she would not be feeling so calm.

Haruka has never been in love, but if she were to be, she would want it to be with someone who makes her feel like Tomochika does.

It hurts her to think of the lost opportunity; and the grief that fills her at the thought is more inexplicable than she ever expected.

It isn’t long before Tomochika begins to move and stretch, beginning her slow process of waking. Her usually well-formed curls are crushed underneath her head, her usually tidy bangs falling on to her face. Haruka noted all of these with a tenderness, holding herself back from reaching out a hand and brushing the stray strands back.

“Hmm…how long have you been awake?” Tomochika sighs, her eyes not yet open but Haruka can see the small movements to make herself more comfortable in the sheets, like a cat.

“Not very long, it’s still early I think.”

“Is there a rush to get out of bed?” her friend asks hopefully.

Haruka smiles sadly, not wanting to break their moment by remembering responsibility, "Only a little bit, I should be going into town to find Masato soon…"

Haruka could see the disappointment that settled on Tomochika´s face and could see her quick attempts to hide it.

“Ah, that’s true. Best to get it over with soon so you can feel better about it,” Tomochika reasoned and Haruka only nodded in agreement. Even so, they took their time in rising, moving around the room leisurely as they dressed themselves, backs to each other.

Haruka could feel lingering shame as she began the slow process of buttoning up her blouse, and felt guilty about the circumstances outside of her control. She sneaks a peak behind her and catches the sight of bare shoulders and red hair. She tries to imagine the face Tomochika might be making and hopes that she hasn’t brought her any grief.

She feels trapped between her need to run away and cope, and the feeling that she has already had her grace period - her one night with Tomochika. There is always a looming stress in knowing there is always something she must face.

When they move into the kitchen, she sees a pile of letters previously forgotten. Tomochika always brings her her mail when she comes to visit, to save her an extra trip into town. She usually looks forward to letters from family on the outside, but seeing her father’s name fills her with dread. Tomochika is busy preparing food when she angles away from her to read the carefully written letter.

It begs her to comply with the engagement, not in the cruel totalitarian way of the the Hijirikawa elder, but in the reasonable way her parents have always had. They admit that business has not well this year and that there was real fear they would not have enough income to maintain the estate. A marriage with Hijirikawa would solve that problem, would allow one less stress one their family.

There is nothing more important to Haruka than her family and her grandmother’s old house. Privately, she finds herself pushed to a decision before putting the letter away.

Breakfast is mostly quiet - two women sharing a private space - but Haruka’s tension bleeds in between them, sticky. They follow their usual steps, the habit of living together, until it leads them outside under gray skies. The dirt path to the stables is soft with the night’s rain and Tomochika’s hands are deft and quick in setting up the horse’s saddle.

The ride back into town has Haruka’s arms snug around Tomochika’s waist, warm where the air around them is a sharp cold. In their movement, Haruka’s cheek falls to lean against her back and all she can think about is the glimpse of bare shoulders and red hair. The ride is silent even though her mind is anything but.

It isn’t until the reach more central roads and trails that Tomochika asks, “To his house?”

Haruka consider, “I think he’d be at the barracks in the morning,” to which Tomochika nods and changes directions. When they reach the barracks, the horse trots to a stop and Haruka reluctantly begins untangling herself from the other girl's waist.

"Will you be alright? I could always go with you," Tomochika tries as Haruka gets off the horse.

"No, I'll be fine I think. We can catch up later tonight?" she responds hopefully.

Tomochika smiles the same easy smile she always reserves for Haruka, "Of course."

Haruka has only ever been to the barracks a handful of times, and each time only to ever see friends. She feels like she's stumbling around without direction inside, and she encounters/passes a few people she vaguely knows but not well enough to ask for directions. She keeps turning corners until she accidentally runs straight into someone.

"Watch where you're going, fool!"

Haruka thankfully manages to not fall to with the force of the impact. When she looks up, she finds herself meeting angry blue eyes.

"Captain Camus! Forgive me, I didn't see you there -"

His face shifts back to something more polite once he sees here, as if remembering himself and straightening himself out, "Nanami, what brings you all the way out to the barracks?"

"I was just looking for Masato when I got a bit lost unfortunately," Haruka explains. She can see the way his brows furrow slightly in annoyance. Camus has always been a prickly character, nothing personal in his attitude but Haruka still averts eye contact afterwards as if to avoid criticism. If only she had a better sense of direction she could have avoided unnecessary confrontation.

"I see. Does the younger Hijirikawa not have duties to attend to this early in the day? Is he free enough to be taking social calls?"

"Oh. I don't know…but there is something very important which I need to discuss with him."

The look Camus gives her is critical, as if trying to discern what she could be hiding behind her purposefully vague word choice. She feels on the spot, avoids the urge to keep explaining herself as to not land herself or Masato in the next round of town gossip.

"Well," Camus opens his mouth, his posture and look as intimidating as always, but is interrupted as his eyes trace to something behind her and he stops himself.

She looks back, instinctively, and feels infinitely grateful to see Ranmaru and Masato walking toward them.

"Camus, isn't it too early to be harassing the citizenry?" Ranmaru says quickly assessing the situation between the two.

Haruka can see the rigid effort it takes for Camus not to begin arguing with Ranmaru in front of her, so instead he shifts the attention elsewhere, "Nanami was just telling me she is here looking for Hijirikawa. I just thought it interesting the Mayor's son had enough free time to entertain a friend."

The mood somehow worsens, but Masato steps in, "It's a private matter I'm afraid, but we both have our reasons for it. Haruka, shall we talk elsewhere?"

She nods in agreement and follows his motion to move along after a quick bow goodbye to the rest of the men. As they walk away she can hear the hushed arguing of Camus and his vice captain - she wonders distantly how they manage to get anything done.

Once they exit the barracks, Haruka begins apologizing, "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble with the captain, I just wasn't sure where else to look for you…"

"It's fine, Camus is always like that," he responds, shrugging it off, "He's really not a bad person just…very dedicated to his work."

"A very diplomatic answer."

"I should hope so, or else all of my politics lessons would have been a great waste."

Haruka smiles at that and feels significantly more relaxed now that it is simply the two of them. They were friends, after all. Perhaps that was what made the burden they shared all the more difficult.

"I wanted to know how you felt about everything," Masato says after a moment of silence.

"Well, I was very upset yesterday, I'm a little embarrassed to have run off like that," She starts.

"Think nothing of it. It's understandable."

She nods her thanks before continuing, raising a hand to idle with her hair as she talks, "I think I still feel mostly shock at this point. I'm not really sure how I should be feeling about it. "

"I think I feel similarly…I talked to my father," he says, "He wasn't very receptive to talking, at all, but I am going to keep trying. I would like to get him put off the engagement until we've thought about it…"

Haruka stops and thinks of her parent's letter, of responsibility and circumstance, of what other possibilities they could have in their town other than this.

"Actually…if it's only on my account, it won't be necessary."

Masato stops as well, looking back with unmasked shock, "What?"

"It's like your father said, it would good for our families, wouldn't it?"

Masato steps closer to her, everything about him reading confused, "I don't understand.""

Haruka wishes she could feel more confident in her response, she's shifting on her feet and her eyes are trained on the ground as she speaks, "Of course, it depends on how you feel as well but…I think I can learn to accept it."

"You shouldn't have to accept it, if you don’t want to," he interjects but Haruka stays silent. It sounds simple, it sounds true just like when Tomochika said it, but she still feels unable to believe it.

"It would be best for my family and our estate, they're what's most important to me and I don't mind making sacrifices for them." She can see the way Masato flinches at her last statement. He seems as surprised as she was herself at the words being said, but as soon as she read her parent's letter the decision had already been made.

Masato is silent for a long time after until he speaks again, "Yes…I understand." At the end of the day, they were both people tied to their duties. She can see Masato deflate, attempting to catch up to what she's now decided. He seems to be adjusting quickly and Haruka wonders if Tomochika will as well.

Masato clears his throat awkwardly, "Well, have you eaten? May I treat you to lunch?"

She smiles at him, but has a difficult time keeping the hint of sadness out of it, "Of course."

 

* * *

 

 

They head into town together for the local inn and tavern and the walk is unfortunately more tense than Haruka would have liked, though the blame for that did not solely on either of them. The realization that now their lunch would be more courting than one between friends hit Haruka with the reality of her decision, something she found herself lamenting quietly during their walk. Masato too, felt stiffer than usual, too lost in thought to notice Haruka's own quietness.

By the time they arrive to the tavern, the bustle of other townsfolk is a quite welcome distraction. As soon as they walk inside they are greeted by the bartender - a friendly man with warm brown eyes who Tomochika said was just a bit too perceptive.

"Good to see you two! Not usual for Haruka to come by to visit without Tomochika, always hiding away from us at that old house.

Haruka tries not to let her smile falter at the commentary, Masato shifting next to her making her feel even more awkward. Still, she forces a smile and more small talk as they sit down and await their food. Reiji watched them the entire time they spoke and she wondered if he picked up the false lightness in her voice.

Once her and Masato are finally alone with their meal, they both seem to relax once freed from outside scrutiny. It's less of a performance the, which is when Masato eventually ventures to ask, “How is Tomochika?”

A topic she takes to easily. “She’s good, she’s been settling well into her apprenticeship with Ringo. She's always had an eye for style so I think it's a good fit with her, she's been designing the prettiest things and I'm always the first one to see them …Luckily, she came over yesterday and -"

She stops herself, suddenly aware that without interruptions she could ramble for quite a while. She thinks back to what Reiji said, suddenly self-conscious about what's appropriate to gush about on what is now a date with her betrothed.

"Why did you stop?"

"I don't want it to seem as if…"

Masato seems dawns on his face as if he understands, "Ah! I see. I, um, don't mind if you want to keep talking."

"Um…"

"Haruka, do you -"

They're interrupted by the smashing of glass. Something has broken at a nearby table, and shouting that has risen in volume enough that it's bled into the rest of the tavern. They can see Reiji walking towards the table, hands up to mediate the situation.

"Whoa there! Let's calm down over here!"

"This one's saying all sorts of things she isn't supposed to," the man says pointing at the woman with him.

"What," she says, "Am I not allowed to say I don't feel safe? Its what we're all thinking! How long before the monsters of the forest decide to be through with us for good? What happens when what we give them isn't enough?"

Haruka's breath catches at the taboo topic - it's the constant talk of their village but spoken only in hushed whispers and in private quarters. Something they’re discouraged from talking about too often, for the fear and discord it brings.

And such is what happens - the tavern breaks into large commotion at the words, people rising from their chairs heated to give their opinion and concern. Reiji tries his best to crowd control but to little avail, and Haruka watches the scene unfold fearfully.

Before she realizes it, Masato has stepped into action.

Haruka was only nudged awake by the soft stream of light that had snuck its way through the closed curtains of her room. Her first thoughts were vague images left over from her dreams that night, specific only in her first second waking, then to be lost to the new day. Her second conscious thought is a slow awareness of the other body sharing her bed.

When she rolls over onto her other side, she finds Tomochika still sleeping soundly in the leftover shadows. Haruka feels the intimacy of the moment acutely; of the easy comfort of sharing such a close quarters, of the easy comfort of spending a night together in each other’s company. Had Tomochika not been there last to help soothe her uneasy mind in the wake of the engagement, Haruka is sure she would not be feeling so calm.

Haruka has never been in love, but if she were to be, she would want it to be with someone who makes her feel like Tomochika does.

It hurts her to think of the lost opportunity; and the grief that fills her at the thought is more inexplicable than she ever expected.

It isn’t long before Tomochika begins to move and stretch, beginning her slow process of waking. Her usually well-formed curls are crushed underneath her head, her usually tidy bangs falling on to her face. Haruka noted all of these with a tenderness, holding herself back from reaching out a hand and brushing the stray strands back.

“Hmm…how long have you been awake?” Tomochika sighs, her eyes not yet open but Haruka can see the small movements to make herself more comfortable in the sheets, like a cat.

“Not very long, it’s still early I think.”

“Is there a rush to get out of bed?” her friend asks hopefully.

Haruka smiles sadly, not wanting to break their moment by remembering responsibility, "Only a little bit, I should be going into town to find Masato soon…"

Haruka could see the disappointment that settled on Tomochika´s face and could see her quick attempts to hide it.

“Ah, that’s true. Best to get it over with soon so you can feel better about it,” Tomochika reasoned and Haruka only nodded in agreement. Even so, they took their time in rising, moving around the room leisurely as they dressed themselves, backs to each other.

Haruka could feel lingering shame as she gathered her things, beginning the slow process of buttoning up her blouse, and felt guilty about the circumstances outside of her control. She sneaks a peak behind her, catches the sight of bare shoulders and red hair and tries to imagine the face Tomochika might be making and hopes that she hasn’t brought her any grief.

She feels trapped between her need to runaway and cope, and the feeling that she has already had her grace period - her one night with Tomochika. There is always a looming stress in knowing there is something she must face.

Breakfast is mostly quiet - two women sharing a private space - but Haruka’s tension bleeds in between them, sticky. They follow their usual steps, the habit of living together, until it leads them outside under gray skies. The dirt path to the stables is soft with the night’s rain and Tomochika’s hands are deft and quick in setting up the horse’s saddle.

The ride back into town has Haruka’s arms snug around Tomochika’s waist, warm where the air around them is a sharp cold. In their movement, Haruka’s cheek falls to lean against her back and all she can think about is the glimpse of bare shoulders and red hair. The ride is silent even though her mind is anything but.

It isn’t until the reach more central roads and trails that Tomochika asks, “To his house?”

Haruka consider, “I think he’d be at the barracks in the morning,” to which Tomochika nods and changes directions. When they reach the barracks, the horse trots to a stop and Haruka reluctantly begins untangling herself from the other girl's waist.

"Will you be alright? I could always go with you," Tomochika tries as Haruka gets off the horse.

"No, I'll be alright I think. We can catch up later tonight hopefully?" she responds hopefully.

Tomochika smiles the same easy smile she always reserves for Haruka, "Of course."

Haruka has only ever been to the barracks a handful of times and each time only to ever to see friends. She feels like she's stumbling around without direction inside, she walks a few people she vaguely knows but not well enough to ask for directions, and keeps turning corners until she accidentally runs straight into someone.

"Watch where you're going, fool!"

Haruka thankfully manages to not fall to with the force of the impact. When she looks up, she finds herself meeting angry blue eyes.

"Captain Camus! Forgive me, I didn't see you there -"

His face shifts back to something more polite once he sees here, as if remembering himself and straightening himself out, "Nanami, what brings you all the way out to the barracks?"

"I was just looking for Masato when I got a bit lost unfortunately," Haruka explains. She can see the way his brows furrow slightly in annoyance. Camus has always been a prickly character, nothing personal in his attitude but Haruka still averts eye contact afterwards as if to avoid criticism. If only she had a better sense of direction she could have avoided unnecessary confrontation.

"I see. Does the younger Hijirikawa not have duties to attend to this early in the day? Is he free enough to be taking social calls?"

"Oh. I don't know…but there is something very important which I need to discuss with him."

The look Camus gives her is critical, as if trying to discern what she could be hiding behind her purposefully vague word choice. She feels on the spot, avoids the urge to keep explaining herself as to not land herself or Masato in the next round of town gossip.

"Well," Camus opens his mouth, posture and look as intimidating as always but is interrupted as his eyes trace to something behind her and he stops himself.

She looks back, instinctively, and feels infinitely grateful to see Ranmaru and Masato walking toward them.

"Camus, isn't it too early to be harassing the citizenry?" Ranmaru says quickly assessing the situation between the two.

Haruka can see the rigid effort it takes for Camus not to begin arguing Ranmaru in front her, instead he shifts the attention elsewhere, "Nanami was just telling me she is here looking for Hijirikawa. I just thought it interesting the Mayor's son had enough free time to entertain a friend."

The mood somehow worsens, but Masato steps in, "It's a private matter I'm afraid, but we both have our reasons for it. Haruka, shall we talk elsewhere?"

She nods in agreement and follows his motion to move along, after a quick bow goodbye to the rest of the men. As they walk away she can hear the hushed arguing of Camus and his vice captain - she wonders distantly how they manage to get anything done.

Once they exit the barracks, Haruka begins apologizing, "I'm sorry if I got you in trouble with the captain,I just wasn't sure where else to look for you…"

"It's fine, Camus is always like that," he responds, shrugging it off, "He's really not a bad person just…very dedicated to his work."

"A very diplomatic answer."

"I should hope so, or else all of my politics lessons would have been a great waste."

Haruka smiles at that and feels significantly more relaxed now that it is simply the two of them. They were friends, after all. Perhaps that was what made the burden they shared all the more difficult.

"I wanted to know how you felt about everything," Masato says after a moment of silence.

"Well, I was very upset yesterday, I'm a little embarrassed to have run off like that," She starts.

"Think nothing of it. It's understandable."

She nods her thanks before continuing, raising a hand to idle with her hair as she talks, "I think I still feel mostly shock at this point. I'm not really sure how I should be feeling about it. "

"I think I feel similarly…I talked to my father," he says, "He wasn't very receptive to talking, at all, but I am going to keep trying. I would like to get him put off the engagement until we've thought about it…"

Haruka stops and thinks of her parent's letter, of responsibility and circumstance, of what other possibilities they could have in their town other than this.

"Actually…if it's only on my account, it won't be necessary."

Masato stops as well, looking back with unmasked shock, "What?"

"It's like your father said, it would good for our families, wouldn't it?"

Masato steps closer to her, everything about him reading confused, "I don't understand.""

Haruka wishes she could feel more confident in her response, she's shifting on her feet and her eyes are trained on the ground as she speaks, "Of course, it depends on how you feel as well but…I think I can learn to accept it."

"You shouldn't have to accept it, if you don’t want to," he interjects but Haruka stays silent. It sounds simple, it sounds true just like when Tomochika said it, but she still feels unable to believe it.

"It would be best for my family and our estate, they're what's most important to me and I don't mind sacrifices for them." She can see the way Masato flinches at her last statement. He seems as surprised as she was herself at the words being said, but as soon as she read her parent's letter the decision had already been made.

Masato is silent for a long time after until he speaks again, "Yes…I understand." At the end of the day, they were both people tied to their duties. She can see Masato deflate, attempting to catch up to what she's now decided. He seems to be adjusting quickly and Haruka wonders if Tomochika will as well.

Masato clears his throat awkwardly, "Well, have you eaten? May I treat you to lunch?"

She smiles at him, but has a difficult time keeping the hint of sadness out of it, "Of course."

 

* * *

 

 

They head into town together for the local inn and tavern and the walk is unfortunately more tense than Haruka would have liked, though the blame for that did not solely on either of them. The realization that now their lunch would be more courting than one between friends hit Haruka with the reality of her decision, something she found herself lamenting quietly during their walk. Masato too, felt stiffer than usual, too lost in thought to notice Haruka's own quietness.

By the time they arrive to the tavern, the bustle of other townsfolk is a quite welcome distraction. As soon as they walk inside they are greeted by the bartender - a friendly man with warm brown eyes who Tomochika said was just a bit too perceptive.

"Good to see you two! Not usual Haruka comes by to visit without Tomochika, always hiding away from us at that old house.

Haruka tries not to let her smile falter at the commentary, Masato shifting next to her making her feel even more awkward. Still, she forces a smile and more small talk as they sit down and await their food. Reiji watched them the entire time they spoke and she wondered if he picked up the false lightness in her voice.

Once her and Masato are finally alone with their meal, Masato ventures asking, “How is Tomochika?”

A topic she takes to easily. “She’s good, she’s been settling well into her apprenticeship with Ringo. She's always had an eye for style so I think it's a good fit with her, she's been designing the prettiest things and I'm always the first one to see them …Luckily, she came over yesterday and -"

She stops herself, suddenly aware that without interruptions she could ramble for quite a while. She thinks back to what Reiji said, suddenly self-conscious about what's appropriate to gush about on what is now a date with her betrothed.

"Why did you stop?"

"I don't want it to seem as if…"

Masato seems dawns on his face as if he understands, "Ah! I see. I, um, don't mind if you want to keep talking."

"Um…"

"Haruka, do you -"

They're interrupted by the smashing of glass. Something has broken at a nearby table, and shouting that has risen in volume enough that it's bled into the rest of the tavern. They can see Reiji walking towards the table, hands up to mediate the situation.

"What seems to be the problem here?"

"This one's saying all sorts of things she isn't supposed to," the man says pointing at the woman with him.

"What," she says, "Am I not allowed to say I don't feel safe? Its what we're all thinking! How long before the monsters of the forest decide to be through with us for good? What happens when what we give them isn't enough?"

Haruka's breath catches at the taboo topic - it's the constant talk of their village but spoken only in hushed whispers and in private quarters. Something their discouraged from talking about too often, for the fear and discord it brings.

And such is what happens - the tavern breaks into large commotion at the words, people rising from their chairs heated to give their opinion and concern. Reiji tries his best to crowd control but to little avail, and Haruka watches the scene unfold fearfully.

Before she realizes it, Masato has stepped into action.

"What seems to be the problem here?"

Both of the people heatedly engaged in the argument widened their eyes as they see Masato approach with all of the authority of the mayor himself. They become suddenly diffident about it, avoiding eye contact.

"I was simply speaking my mind, Mr. Hijirikawa," the woman defends and the man she is with, glares.

"I am sorry to see you so upset about the matter," Masato starts politely, "I hope you know that the mayor and the militia are doing the best they can to ensure all our safety, it is why we have our traditions in place."

He sounds like his father, Haruka thinks not without some dread, but it seems to do the trick and the couple settles down with only half-hearted mumbles.

They apologize and thank Masato for his assurances before he bows and leaves them to their business. When he sits back down at their table, Haruka can see how his expression is more taut than it had been prior.

"Those politics lessons really are something, huh?" she says.

Masato's responding smile is a small and pitiful thing, "I guess they've served their purpose."

Haruka fiddles with the fabric of her skirt as she asks, "Do you believe it? What you said to those people?"

He is silent for a few seconds before answering, "I hope it to be true - want it to be."

Haruka figures it is as honest as he's allowed to be. She allows herself to follow her instinct and reach out to give the hand he has on the table a squeeze. When their eyes meet, there's an understanding Haruka thinks she can be content with.


	4. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters from a time past, tension raise

_Dear Hijirikawa:_

_I bet receiving this letter is a surprise to you, even though I've always told you I would write you, didn't I? Even if we fought that last day when I left. You were so upset at me - well, we were upset at each other. Both of us were so nervous about my departure that I think it left us snappier than usual. It's been a month now and it feels silly in retrospect, when I'm so far away. I've been having all sorts of rose-colored thoughts about the past these days - distance makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose. It's even tricking me into missing you (but only a little, don't let it go to your head)._

_Travelling has kept me busy enough; it's really different but I'm starting to like it I think, though I’m still bitter my brother has given me little choice in the matter. I arrived to port yesterday and saw the ocean for the first time. You wouldn’t believe how massive it is! Do you remember that time when were 12 or so, and we took a pair of horses into the forest without telling anyone? We rode north for miles till we got to that huge lake. You're father was so angry at us when we got back he basically chased me out of your house - but anyway, imagine that lake, but an even brighter blue color and never ending. It's the only time I've ever felt like I can actually see the curve of the globe…I wish you could see it._

_I hope things have been well with you. I'm attaching an address where you should be able to reach me next month. Don't be stubborn: write me, tell me what's going on in town and what you've been up to. My brother's letters are always curt and boring so don't skimp on the details._

_I'm serious, you better write me._

_\- Jinguji Ren_

 

* * *

 

 

Present day

 

The man was coming into his forties, having spent his life as a traveling merchant. He had travelled this particular route, to this particular village a handful of times now, though not in recent years. Perhaps that is why he felt adequately confident enough to travel the mountain roads despite the late arrival of his ship.

“Still, It’s not safe after dark, you should stay the night,” one of the locals had warned him and he had waved them off. Traveling by night is never ideal but he’s done it before - I know the village he replied, I can arrive there before dusk, he said.

He feels regret heavy on his mind when evening falls faster than he could catch it, shrouding everything around him in impregnable shadows. The lantern on his carriage did little to light his way and the moon even less, the thicket of branches and trees that covered the sky granting him little respite.

He knows he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and at some point lost the road; the forest was too thick here and he hadn’t seen a sign for miles. He breathes in, and tries not to panic - he keeps his eyes on the road, steady and forward until he’s gone uphill enough and reached a clearing in the trees. He hopes from there he’ll see a landmark, perhaps the village in the distance or an important peak of the mountain.

He can’t quite believe what he sees instead.

A castle built right into the stone precipice - an ancient powerful thing, hidden and awe-evoking. For a second he thinks it could be a mirage, conjured up in his state fear, the fog surrounding it already giving it a dreamlike appearance. He must be far off his original route, he thinks, now unsure of what to do. Should he sleep in his carriage tonight, despite the chill of winter? Or perhaps his chances would be better if approached whatever noblemen happened to live away here, secluded.

He hears wolves howling in the distance and his blood feels like it's suddenly frozen in his veins. This forest is not safe to stay in. The horses of his carriage neigh and idle, their animal fear instinctual, but he commands them towards the castle anyway.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

The man’s breath hitches as he’s startled and he halts his horses. He looks behind him to find a young man, emerging from the trees. His features are difficult to define in the dark, but even at distance he can tell he’s handsome, nicely but casually dressed but standing too still, like a statue.

“Who are you?" he stutters out, "What are you doing out here?”

The man continues to stares at him for a few seconds before beginning to walk towards him, his movements too smooth to feel right, as if his eyes were somewhere playing tricks on him.

The young man ignores his questions, “Are you looking for the village?”

“Yes, you see, I got lost on my way…” he trails off. Now that the man stands closer to him, he can see his face better. In the light of clearing can see the orange gold of his long hair and the unnatural hue of his eyes. Still handsome, unearthly handsome, but it feels wrong on his face.

“You are far off from the village, my friend.”

He feels fear again but he’s can't put into words why, everything about the man only slightly off, “I see, I…I was hoping perhaps I could take refuge for the night at that castle.”

“The count that lives there isn’t privy to guests,” the man refuted quickly, “I can go with you and show you the road back to the village if you’d like.”

His horses are still jittery, still nervous, as if facing a beast or predator. He does not trust this young man.

“If you point the way, I can go on my own, no need for you to trouble yourself,” he tries, suddenly wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.

There is more howling in the distance but it sounds far closer now, it’s echoes right on his heels and his horses lose it then, they’re kicking and neighing loudly unresponsive to his commands, no matter how much he tries to desperately to reign them in.

He gets off his carriage and runs.

Runs as fast as his feet will carry him, but it is dark and he cannot see. He hears the young man calling after him but keeps running and stumbling. Adrenaline keeps him going and his fear reminds him he is alone here, in the dark. He is prey here.

The howling keeps getting closer and he keeps running.

 

* * *

 

 

“So the merchant never came in?” Masato asks.

Reiji is leaning against the counter of his tavern’s bar as he speaks, “We were expecting him three days ago, another merchant that came with him on the same ship got here fine yesterday so it’s a little concerning.”

“I see. I will speak to the guard captain today and we will check the roads. Hopefully we can find out what happened,” he assures him.

“Thanks Masato! The goods he was bringing in were important but I feel better knowing you’ll be looking into it,” Reiji, “you’re so responsible and all, you’re going to make a great mayor.”

Masato gives a small smile, even though he’s not sure he agrees, “I appreciate that. I will try to get back to you soon.”

He wishes the man farewell before heading back outside, mulling over the new information in his head - it seemed like the roads were getting more dangerous everyday, and it did little to calm his nerves about this winter.

The little village square is always busy around this time of day and you begin to get used to running into familiar faces. It is no shock when he sees Tomochika and she runs over to where he is,

“Hijirikawa! I’ve been hoping to spot you around.”

“What for?” he winces after he says it, realizing how curt it must sound, but it wasn’t usual for him and Tomochika to spend time together without Haruka.

Tomochika takes it in stride.

"Are you heading to the barracks? Let me go with you," she says, "I want to join the militia."  
Straight to the point.

"What?"

"Aren't you recruiting?"

"Yes, but -"

"Then I want to join," she says so firmly it leaves no room for argument.

Masato sighs but nods for her to follow as he starts walking again, "It's a dangerous time to decide to put yourself on the frontlines."

"We're a small village, the stakes are higher. If help is needed…"

Masato hums in agreement.

"Plus, the militia trains you doesn't it? I would feel safer if I could defend myself."

Masato questions if the militia's training will actually be any good against the things in the forest that hunt them but agrees anyway.

"Haruka is such a pacifist, she doesn't want to learn any of that kind of stuff, but I thought maybe one of us should."

The mention of Haruka bites at Masato's nerves slightly, especially now in the face of someone so important in his fiance's life.

"Has Haruka told you-"

"Yes," Tomochika cuts him off while looking straight ahead, "If I can be frank with you, Hijirikawa, I'm not sure why she's suddenly agreed to it."

The words cut sharp and sting, which Tomochika realizes as she looks over at him, "I mean nothing personal by it, it's an unfortunate convention of our society."

"Of course," he replies, "If I'm honest, I'm unsure why she's accepted as well. I guess it's easier than attempting to overturn the decision of my father," he muses.

"Things worth doing are hardly ever easy," she counters. She feels defensive and Masato isn't sure it's his place to get into why.

"If you feel so strongly about it, perhaps this is a conversation you should have with Haruka," is what he decides on saying. It's neutral enough not to offend, but pointed enough to get his message across.

He doesn't feel comfortable enough to have this conversation with her, when Haruka isn't here and he still isn't sure about what Tomochika is to her, if it's something more than friends.

The thought feels taboo to even think, especially now that Haruka is to be his betrothed. He can't help it - it all makes him think of Ren - and all the emotions he feels are far too frightening to linger on.

They spend the rest of the walk in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrive, they find Ranmaru pacing around his office, sulking and in a bad mood.

"Was it Camus?" Masato asks.

Ranmaru's smile is vicious and annoyed, "Good guess." He rubs his face with his hands before and lets out a deep sigh and continuing, "Okay, out with it, what do you want."

Both Masato and Tomochika hesitate but Tomochika speaks first, "I want to join the militia."

Ranmaru looks at her with no attempt to hide his skepticism, "A seamstress?"

"What difference does it make? Most of your volunteers are farmers, not soldiers," she counters quickly.

"The training is intensive and very physical," he says, unconvinced.

"I can keep up."

Tomochika looks at him with the steadiest gaze and Masato can tell Ranmaru is sizing her up, wondering if she has the mettle she claims to.

A beat before Ranmaru, "I guess we'll have to see you in action then. We have a training in two days, at the break of dawn. Show up then if you truly mean it."

He can hear the small breath of relief Tomochika lets out.

"And you, Hijirikawa? Or were you just here for moral support?" Ranmaru asks.

Masato clears his throat before putting on his professional voice, "Kotobuki at the inn asked me today to look into a missing merchant that had been scheduled to arrive at the village. He never showed."

Ranmaru's face drops immediately.

"His body was found on the roads earlier today."

Masato breathes in, his blood suddenly cold.

"I'm telling you both because you'll likely start hearing people talk about it soon…you know how fast news spreads."

“Is that what you were fighting with Camus about?” he asks.

Ranmaru’s eyebrows furrow, “Let’s just say we have different opinions about to go about ensuring the town’s safety. He’s about stricter curfews and fear mongering and I feel we should be...more proactive.”

Both Masato’s and Tomochika’s eyes widen and he thinks back to the argument he witnessed yesterday.

“What, are you planning on just charging into the forest with the cavalry?” she asks.

“I’m just saying, perhaps a change of tactics is what we’ve been needing all these years.”

Silence hangs heavy over the office at the bold words.

“Town leadership has never been one to accept change so easily,” Masato says cautiously neutral.

Ranmaru looks quite solemn and deathly serious when he responds, “Well, desperate times…”

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Jinguuji:_

_I admit, I was half-expecting you wouldn't write out of spite or that perhaps you would get too caught up in your exciting new life and forget about the rest of us. I see now that that isn’t the case, but I'm not sure what you're expecting from this letter. You know I'm not privy to town gossip, if that's what you're after and it's not like our little village has ever been particularly exciting. In fact, I would say things have been even quieter without you around to poke the hornet's nest and cause trouble…dare I say it's been too quiet, almost._

_Well, still I'll try to entertain you: I went to Haruka's house a couple of days ago to help her tune her piano, she's been urging me to compose more music but I have little time for it, with father constantly urging on my lessons and training. Haruka herself has been writing quite impressive pieces, something you will have to ask her to play for you whenever you return, as I’m sure she’ll only get better in the next year. At home, a tutor is teaching Mai to read and write, and she's picking up on it very quickly. She's constantly asking about you and where you are too, I don't know how you have her so wooed._

_She's not the only one - you've left all the girls in town terribly heartbroken. Just yesterday, one of the many girls you chased around - Kano, was her name? - came up to me to ask if we were in contact, as she wanted an address to write to you. I told her no, obviously, and frankly I was very annoyed by it. It felt as if you had found a way to bother me even when you're miles away._

_I hope you find that detail sufficient. I'm expecting this to be a reciprocal relationship and your next letter to tell me more about your travels. I liked reading about the ocean, tell me more (even though I have a hard time imaging the vastness you described). I want to hear about the cities too, and the ships._

_Next time draw me a picture._

_\- Hijirikawa Masato_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok sorry this is slow going!!! making up by posting two chapters back to back...I havent responded to the comments left but im going to start cause they mean so much to me!!! reading them always makes my whole day so thank u for taking the time to do so :)


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